He always sings raggy music to the cattle
As he swings back and forward in the saddle
On a horse that is syncopated, gaited
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater
How they run when they hear that fellow's gun
Because the Western folks all know
He's a highfaluting, scooting, shooting son-of-a-gun from Arizona
Fit as a fiddle and ready for love
He always sings raggy music to the cattle
As he swings back and forward in the saddle
On a horse that is syncopated, gaited
And there's such a funny meter to the roar of his repeater
How they run when they hear that fellow's gun
Because the Western folks all know
He's a highfaluting, scooting, shooting son-of-a-gun from Arizona
Fit as a fiddle and ready for love